Now That's What I Call Dirty Money
by Mad Dog

No matter how it got tainted, dirty money needs to be laundered. Usually that means running it through off-shore Caribbean bank accounts, dummy businesses, and bogus Enron energy schemes so it appears clean. But in Japan appearing clean isn’t good enough. They want it spotless. That’s why they have ATM machines that clean, sanitize, and even iron the money before spitting it out. At some locations you can even “Press 3 to receive your money on a hanger.” And you thought Tamagotchi was their greatest innovation.

It’s not surprising these ATMs are in Japan since many people there, in a never-ending quest to be more like Michael Jackson, are scared to death of germs. This paranoia has spawned an industry which creates and markets germ-resistant products such as pencils, lamps, memo pads, earphones, clothes dryers, telephones, and even baseball mitts. Hey, you never know what you might come down with after catching that spit ball, especially if the pitcher is from northeastern India.

But back to India. It seems a doctor at the Regional Sophisticated Instrumentation Center (motto: “Our instruments are so sophisticated they wear lipstick and pantyhose when they’re only 12 years old.”) said the grossly overused and soiled bills found in India can make you sicker than last week’s tandoori. Apparently this isn’t news, but rather validation. For years British travel guides have warned that tourists should wash their hands after each money transaction. Is it any wonder Indian shopkeepers address British tourists as sahib, which is Hindi for “Howard Hughes”?

There are a number of possible solutions to this problem. For one, they could issue latex gloves when people withdraw money from the bank—the more you withdraw, the more gloves you get. They could also print new money using anti-bacterial ink, which I’m sure they can import from Japan. Shopkeepers could start handing out Listerine Wet Wipes with people’s change. Or someone could open a chain of Rupee-Kleen™ money laundromats equipped with autoclaves so people can wash their bills. A cup of penicillin, two scoops of new All-Denomination Cheer, and a sheet of Snuggle fabric softener and they’d be good as new. Or just for yucks they might consider doing something truly revolutionary like, oh, working to stamp out tuberculosis and pneumonia so there wouldn’t be so many germs floating around to infect the money in the first place.

It’s amazing money can even get to that point, since the average paper currency only lasts 18 months, which is about 18 months longer than it lasts in my wallet. Banks pull old money out of circulation, ship it to the Federal Reserve Bank, and they put it in Alan Greenspan’s account. Just kidding. Actually the Federal Reserve Bank is Alan Greenspan’s account. When they decide a bill is too dirty, torn, or has gone through the washing machine one too many times, they shred it like so many Arthur Anderson client files. They used to burn them but they discovered that visitors to the Federal Reserve Banks like the small souvenir packets of shredded money a lot more than the handful of ashes they used to give out.

Germ-ridden money adds fuel to the argument that the government should eliminate the dollar bill and replace it with a coin. Right. As if the amazing success of the Sacagawea gold dollar isn’t a convincing enough argument. Coins, you see, last 30 years, would save the federal government an estimated $522.2 million annually, don’t get as covered in germs since they make lousy tissues when you have a cold, and when they do finally get old and worn out they can be melted down and recycled, which is not only better for the environment, but also good because they can really screw up a shredder.

There will always be dirty money, though switching to coins would help lessen the amount of it. But until we make that change, if you have any dirty money you don’t want you can always send it to me. After all, I’ve been dying to check out that Rupee-Kleen™ money laundromat that opened down the block.

©2002 Mad Dog Productions, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
These columns appear in better newspapers across the country. Read them, but wash your hands after you pay for them.